


Missing Part

by fencecollapsed



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Catharsis, Family Feels, Gamora doesn't show up ofc but she's mentioned a lot, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Rocket Raccoon-centric, Team as Family, her family misses her, the title is literal AND metaphorical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 18:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencecollapsed/pseuds/fencecollapsed
Summary: The Guardians have all lost something.





	Missing Part

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about the Guardians post-Endgame.

It was quiet on the Benatar. They were drifting, no real objective in mind at the moment. Waiting for a job offer, a bounty, a distress call, something to pop up that would keep them busy. It was never too long in between tasks for the Guardians, but for now it was nice to just drift and relax for a bit.

Drax and Thor were sat at the table heartily exchanging battle stories, their booming laughs echoing through the ship every now and then. Groot sat with them with his legs up on the table, buried in his game as per frickin’ usual. Nebula stayed by the controls, tuning up her cybernetics and making sure the ship wasn't about to ram into an asteroid. Mantis was near her, at the maps to watch for calls. Rocket was doing what he always did to relax - upgrading his weapons.

Nobody had seen Peter since breakfast.

The ship was calm, its residents seemingly at peace, yet… empty. It had felt like that since they'd left Earth. For the time being they'd elected to ignore it, though the lack of Peter's music filling the air only made it more noticeable. Really, it was palpable. Still, something as routine and ingrained as constant music gave certain songs a place in the back of every Guardian's head. They could fill the space on their own. Rocket at least nodded his head in time to music that wasn't playing as he worked.

Deep in focus, Rocket felt around in the pile of parts at his side for the one he needed, only glancing up from his blaster when he didn't find it immediately. He dug through the pile, but the part wasn't there.  _ Hm. _

“Nebs, have you seen a ventryx wire? Just lyin’ around?” He asked.

Nebula glanced back, gaze flicking briefly to the floor and back to Rocket just as fast. “No.”

“I thought it was sitting here a minute ago. Mantis?”

Mantis shook her head. “I have not seen anything.”

“Check under the seats, someone might have kicked it.” Nebula suggested nonchalantly and turned back to her own work.

Rocket rolled his eyes. “Whole lotta help you two are.”

He checked under the seats anyway, though. No wire. Grumbling to himself, he left his workspace to look around the rest of the ship.

“Has anyone seen a ventryx wire? Anyone at all?” He hollered. “If ya took it, tell me now and maybe I won't put one ‘a Drax's turds in your pillowcase tonight.”

“Is it long and yellow? Twisted at the ends?” Drax asked.

“Yeah, that's it.”

“Then no, I haven’t seen it.”

“Great, thanks.”

As Rocket continued to search the floors he passed by Peter's room. It wasn't likely that he'd have an answer, but Rocket figured he'd better ask anyway. He knocked on the wall and started into the doorway.

“Hey, Quill, have you seen my-” Rocket froze as his gaze fell on his friend for the first time since that morning.

Peter sat limp in the corner of his room, head tilted sideways pressed against the wall, eyes fixed vaguely towards the middle distance. His headphones were on, his Zune gripped tight in his hand. He looked like he hadn't moved all day. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating regular breathing, Rocket might have thought him dead.

It registered quickly what was going on. Rocket slowed his approach. The closer he got, he picked up on Peter's exhausted, bloodshot eyes, the flushed pink of his nose, the messy tear stains all down his face that he clearly had no energy to wipe away.

Rocket reached a tentative hand out. “Y'alright, Quill?”

Peter didn't answer in words. His gaze shifted slowly downwards; an acknowledgement of Rocket's presence, not a real answer. He didn’t need to give a real answer, though. It was clear.

Peter was drowning in what the rest of them were refusing to acknowledge.

Rocket let his hand rest on Peter's shoulder awkwardly.

“Missin’ Gamora, huh?” He asked, allowing her name on his tongue for the first time in years.

Peter shut his eyes, brows knitting. A harsh sob choked from his throat, but it was clear he didn't have the energy left to cry any more. The hand gripping his Zune flexed and Rocket could hear the music spill louder from his headphones.

“Yeah,” Rocket sighed, giving Peter's shoulder a pathetic pat.

He'd never been good at the whole comfort thing. Even after spending five years surrounded by emotional Terrans, he couldn't seem to figure out the magic empathy bullshit they managed to make each other feel better. 

Rocket did know one thing, though. He knew his family. He knew that, like him, it was the smaller gestures they responded to. He knew that Peter didn't need to feel better, he needed to feel this out. Peter didn't want a pep talk, not the way Rogers would. No, Peter responded to acknowledgement, to validation. Feeling openly in trusted company. Moments like this were difficult for Rocket to navigate, but this was something he could do.

Forgetting all about his blaster and his missing part, Rocket sat down on the floor beside Peter.

“I miss her, too.” He said.

The gesture of vulnerability hung in the air for a moment before Rocket felt Peter stir at his side. Slowly, Peter removed one of the earpieces from his headphones and passed it to Rocket, who accepted and held it to his own ear. Thunder Island. A song that was gentle but upbeat, the kind you'd dance with somebody to.

A song Gamora had always been fond of.

The other Guardians sometimes had trouble understanding Peter’s coping mechanisms. If you lost someone, why would you deliberately make yourself think about them? Why would you want to make yourself feel worse if that feeling didn’t serve a long-term purpose? Unless using thoughts of a lost one to motivate action, trying to forget about them seemed the favorable alternative.

Rocket understood, though, especially in this moment. Sitting with Peter, listening to the music they knew Gamora liked, it felt like she was there. Even though she wasn’t, Rocket could almost feel her presence in the music, like she was sitting right there beside them. It was comforting, that feeling, despite knowing she wasn’t.

It was why he'd carried Groot's game system on him for those five years. It was why he wore Peter's scarf, why he kept playing his music despite the Avengers’ complaints. It was why he'd taken turns sleeping in every room on the ship but never his own. So he could feel like they were all still with him. He hadn't known he'd get them back, but as long as he carried pieces of them, he'd felt them. It wasn't the same - it never was - but it helped. It helped then, and it helped now.

In this moment he missed Gamora just a little bit less.

Lost in thought, Rocket must have expressed something unconsciously, because he felt Peter move again. He lifted his arm at Rocket’s side, shifting it back in invitation. Rocket hesitated, feeling he’d already left himself too vulnerable today. The invitation was tempting, though, and despite his resistance he was inclined to accept. He scooted a bit closer and leaned against Peter’s side, allowing the Terran to close his arm around him. 

For a moment they only sat, the music filling the silence. Rocket felt everything that had been swirling inside him all this time starting to bubble to the top. He gave a small sniffle and let his head fall on Peter's chest.

*****

“Rocket, I found your wire. It was- oh.” Nebula stopped in the doorway, Mantis following at her side.

The women shared a glance. Mantis stepped inside first, hand tentatively outstretched. She didn't dare touch Rocket, but Peter was always far more open to her. His hand lay palm-down over his Zune. It almost seemed to edge towards her as she reached for him. When Mantis’ touch met Peter's hand, the flood of emotions he shared with Rocket rushed through her. The force was so powerful she couldn't breathe for a moment.

“Gamora,” Mantis choked almost inaudibly as the tears began to flow.

Peter released his tight grip on the Zune to acknowledge Mantis’ touch with his own. He didn't look at her, just brushed his thumb gently overtop of her knuckles. He shifted from the corner, nudging Rocket to move too. Mantis edged into the free space. She folded Peter's hand in both of hers and pressed her forehead to his temple, her antennae brightly aglow with every feeling she only now realized were just as much her own.

Nebula joined after a moment, kneeling down on Rocket’s other side. She moved with a gentleness that was still weirdly jarring despite its near normalcy at this point. She and Rocket grabbed for each other's hands. That was much easier than any of the rest of this. Familiar.

They must have been making some kind of commotion, because next at the door were Drax and Thor. Drax gave a gentle, solemn sigh, connecting the dots immediately. He glanced at Thor, whose brows were knit in a mix of empathy and slight discomfort. Their eyes met and Thor bowed his head, recognizing this was not his place.

“I will go keep an eye on the maps.”

He gave Drax's shoulder a gentle pat and left him in the doorway. As he walked back past the table he nudged Groot, getting him to look up from his game for the first time in probably hours. The sudden lack of anyone but Thor in Groot's line of sight was a bit jarring. He looked around, puzzled, prompting Thor to glance pointedly in the direction of Peter's room.

“Go on, Tree.” He coaxed.

Rocket looked up when he heard footsteps enter the room. Drax took a seat opposite the rest on the floor. His eyes drifted over them all in turn, expression soft but sure. He reached to place a hand on Mantis’ shoulder and offered his other to Nebula.

“We will find her,” He promised. “Gamora’s our family. No matter how long it takes, we won't leave her behind.”

“Of course not.” Nebula agreed. She'd be damned if she was going to lose her sister again.

A comfortable quiet hung briefly in the air before a soft “I am Groot?” came from the doorway.

“Hey, Groot, what’re you doing all the way over there?” Rocket called.

“Yeah, get in here, bud.” Peter chimed in, the words scratching in his exhausted throat.

Groot rushed to join his family. He twined his branches out around each Guardian in a big, loving embrace. A feeling of contentment washed over the room as they all seemed to relax into this moment. A moment of genuine connection, a shared catharsis. It was bittersweet, really, but satisfying all the same. In this moment, the Guardians were actually at peace.

And finally, after years of stark, hollow emptiness, Rocket felt almost whole again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
